“I’m sure.” I said as I found a shard that was large enough to hold while rubbing the edge against the cord. “You really should get me something to stop this bleeding then or you won’t get the chance to do much more than bury me.”
“Like we’d bury you.” Andy muttered, “Stay here, you step one foot out of this room and I’ll smash your kneecaps.”
He left the room and I increased the frantic sawing of the glass against the cord that bound me. I had no doubt that the cut on my head was deep and incredibly painful but head wounds were notoriously bad for bleeding from the smallest cut.
The cord snapped and I pulled my hands apart with a sigh of relief. The sharp pain in my arms from being in such an uncomfortable position for so long was almost welcome.
As I heard Andy returning I pulled myself to a sitting position and put my hands behind my back once more, the shard of glass held tightly in my right hand.
“This cloth should stop the bleeding.” Andy said as he entered the room a thick wad of torn cloth in his hand, his gun hung from a strap over his shoulder.
“Unless you untie my hands you’ll have to do it.” I said trying as hard as I could to sound defeated. In the distance a brief staccato of sound could be heard.
“That’ll be them killing your mates.” Andy said with a smirk. “Think about that before you get any ideas.”
I waiting until he had one hand on the cloth pressing it against the cut in the side of my head and the other on my shoulder to brace himself before I lashed out.
The shard of glass sank deeply into his neck and all I had to do was hold tight as he pulled back with a curse in alarm. The motion helped the sharp glass slice through the flesh of his neck and he fell back against the wall one hand pressed against the wound as his other reached for his gun.
With renewed determination and a savage fury I surged to my feet and leapt at him knocking his hand away from his gun and slicing the glass across his cheek.
I let the shard slick with his blood and my own, drop to the floor as I struck Andy twice across the face. Shock and fear filled his eyes and I grinned evilly as I struck him again and again.
My chest heaved as I stared down at the slumped form of Andy, his hand had fallen away from the cut in his neck and blood was pouring from the wound. It hadn’t been deep enough to nick the carotid artery but that merely meant that his death would be slower.
Andy had a belt that I quickly pulled free from the loops it had been threaded through and used it to secure the wad of cloth to the side of my head. It wasn’t perfect but it would do until I could find something more suited.
His rifle looked the same as the ones I had seen Sarge and the others use to kill my friends. I pulled it from his shoulder distastefully and inspected it.
The layout of the rifle was such that what appeared to be the ejection port and cocking action were on the right side of the receiver making aimed fire from the left shoulder impossible. While I doubted that I would be able to take it apart and look after it without a great deal of practice, it was fairly straightforward to ensure the safety mechanism was off and that it was set to fully automatic.
I hit Andy with the butt of the rifle several times to ensure that he had no chance of regaining consciousness before he bled out and then I headed for the door.
Chapter 25
My options were limited and as much as I disliked having to use a gun of all things, I was injured and facing five trained soldiers. The fact that they had deserted their companions during a zombie apocalypse took nothing away from the training they had received.
A quick scan of the room that I had first been brought through revealed three doors that led out of the room. One on the far side was where the Sarge had first appeared from, and I guessed, led upstairs.
I had just come through one which left one more to try. I dashed across the hardwood floor trying not to slip and looked through the door. It led into dining room with another open doorway that I could see a kitchen through. I ducked inside.
Raucous laughter was the first sign of the return of the deserters. I stood in the shadows behind the half closed door between the dining room and the main room and watched as they went past.
The unnamed deserter passed by first, followed by Levi and Ed talking as they walked close together. Then the one I assumed to be Dec and Sarge close behind. I counted to three as the last of them passed and then stepped out from behind the door and into the room behind them. I raised the gun, aimed it in their general direction and squeezed the trigger.
This time it was their laughter that turned to screams of pain and fear as the hail of bullets tore through them and if I am honest, the walls around them. I was not prepared for the recoil.
I saw blood burst from the back of the unnamed deserter and Ed fell with a scream of pain as he clutched at his leg. Sarge ran to the left and didn’t stop until he was through the door that led upstairs. Levi dived behind one of the sofas and raised his own rifle. Dec fell silently.
As Levi returned fire I disappeared back into the dining room. I dropped the empty gun and ran straight for the kitchen. It hadn’t been a perfect success but I thought that perhaps three of the five were down and out leaving only Levi and Sarge and their guns.
Frantically I searched the kitchen looking for anything that I could use and managed to come up with a filthy carving knife from beside the sink.
Two doors led from the room besides the one that I had entered by. One of them was locked and led outside, the other opened into a hallway with several doors leading off of it. With little choice, I headed down the hallway.
The deserters had the benefit of living in the building so they would know the way around. I could only guess. It would make sense that one of the doors that led off the hallway had another door that connected with the main room where I had left Levi, which meant that he could be behind or ahead of me.
Cursing softly to myself I pulled open the first door and slipped inside to what had likely once been a storeroom for old furniture and junk which filled the room. Box after box were stacked around the room and chairs were piled atop chairs.
A sound from the hallway made me pause and then I slipped behind the still open door. For once grateful that I had been losing weight due to inadequate food, I was able to stand between the wall and the door while leaving the door wide enough that whoever was out there would be able to see inside without needing to come in.
I could hear footsteps moving slowly along the corridor and as they drew closer I held my breath, wary of alerting him. I was sure that whoever was out there would hear my heartbeat as it beat rapidly within my chest.
Blood and adrenaline were rushing through my body and I felt something approaching true pleasure as I played the game of hunter and hunted.
Heavy breathing came from beyond the door and I slid my eyes to the side to see the barrel of a rifle slowly appear.
Several long seconds passed as the deserter explored the room with his gaze from the doorway and then it disappeared as slowly as it had appeared and the footsteps moved further down the hall.
I released my breath slowly and sidled out from behind the door before poking my head through the doorway and peering down the hall.
Levi was walking slowly towards the next door, his rifle held before him. Sarge was nowhere in sight.
While I may have been noisy walking through the woods, in the building I was in my element. I moved silently towards my prey, fierce joy filled me as I watched my victim approach a door and reach for the handle, rifle held ready. So sure of his ability to defend himself, so sure he was the hunter.
My arm circled his neck and squeezed as my other hand pressed the point of the carving knife into neck.
“Put down your gun.” I whispered quietly into his ear and I felt him go still.
“You’re fucking dead.” Levi snarled as he let his gun slide to the floor.
“Where is Sarge?” I asked.
“Screw you.” He spat.
“Fair enough.” I said with a smile as I sliced the knife across his throat.
The cut was deep enough to cut his main artery and I watched with appreciation as the blood spurted from the wound and covered the walls in crimson splashes.
A shudder went through me and I allowed myself a few precious seconds to appreciate the kill before reaching for his rifle. I had no real desire to use it when I could use a knife but it was often better to be prepared.
I re-traced my steps through the house rather than blunder about in unfamiliar rooms and possibly bump into Sarge or an ambush.
At the door between the dining room and the main room I paused briefly to listen to the moans of pain from beyond before poking my head around to see what the people in there were doing.
My brief glimpse showed two men down and unmoving while Ed had dragged himself across the floor and was trying to bandage his leg, his rifle forgotten on the floor where he had dropped it. No sign of Sarge.
I crept into the room and lay the rifle on the sofa before approaching Ed. He was moaning as he wrapped the bandage around his leg. My combat knife beside him from where he had used it to cut the leg of his fatigues to get to the wound. I stood behind him and watched as he finished wrapping the wound and tried to tie the ends of the bandage with shaking hands.
“Did your hands shake like that when you shot my friend for nothing more than speaking?” I whispered as I leant down and pressed the knife point against his side.
“I didn’t do it.” Ed stammered as he went still, his eyes widening as I pushed the knife a little deeper, enough to draw blood. I kept one wary eye on the far exit for Sarge and hated the need to hurry.
“You did and if you were man enough to admit to that then your death would have been quick.” I snarled as I whipped the knife around and stabbed down into his stomach.
Ed screamed in pain and I held him close with my left arm as I used the right to drag the knife messily across his stomach, making sure to cut through his insides. His death would be neither clean nor quick.
“She was my friend.” I said before letting him slump to the floor, his hands curling around the knife sticking out of his guts.
I gave him one last look before picking up my combat knife and retrieving Levi’s rifle. His screams echoed through the room as I cautiously went in search of Sarge.
Chapter 26
I was in my element, a hunter in search of his prey, every sense alert for the slightest indication of where he may be. With the knife tucked into my belt I climbed the stairs with the gun in hand.
At the top of the stairs a hallway stretched the length of the house before turning sharply. Doors lined the walls on either side of the hall and I couldn’t help but compare myself with Levi who had been in the exact same situation as I killed him.
With a smile of anticipation I moved forward. The hallway was darker than the rest of the house and I crept along cautiously. I opened the first door and slid inside to find an empty bathroom. Once I had made sure to look behind the door and in the large bathtub I moved on to the next door.
A bedroom that was likely for guests judging by the lack of personal items on the surfaces that I could see. I made sure to check beneath the bed and inside the wardrobe but found nothing.
I was patient, two rooms down and more to go. If anything the thrill was growing. No worries about promises made and no one to look out for but myself. I was alone and in my element, a killer with no remorse, no conscience and no guilt over the death of a child.
The nasty little voice in the back of my mind laughed at that. There was no escaping that guilt. Once you began to care, the pain never ended.
In the next bedroom a dirty and painfully thin woman huddled beneath a blanket on a stained mattress. A chain had been wrapped around her neck and secured to the bed frame with padlocks.
She looked at me with fear and distrust as I raised one finger to my lips as a gesture to be quiet.
“Sarge?” I whispered and she shook her head.
I moved on to the next room and found another thin and dirty figure secured much as the first, this one male and one I thought I recognised as Leon the missing group member.
“Sarge?” I asked again in a whisper and had much the same response.
The last door in the hallway opened onto a master bedroom and I had but a moment to jump to the side before Sarge fired.
Sharp pain in my side that seemed to radiate outwards and I yelped in pain as I scrambled to the side as more bullets tore through the wall opposite the door.
A quick glance down at my side revealed what looked to be a flesh wound. The bullet had just caught my side as it passed by. I hoped that anything too nasty that was still on my jacket hadn’t been transferred to the wound. Cursing and clicking came from within the room and I smiled.
“Sounds like you are out of bullets.” I called.
“You may be right.” Sarge replied wearily. “Are the rest of my lads dead?”
“All but Ed though he is on the way.”
“Damn.” He said just barely loud enough to hear. “So what now?”
“Now you can come out with your hands raised or I can come in with a gun that does have bullets.”
“You may as well kill me in here.”
“Maybe.” I said as I pulled myself to my feet and raised the rifle. I risked a look inside the room and saw Sarge slumped on the bed defeated, so I entered carefully.
He looked up when I approached and smiled though it didn’t seem to touch his eyes.
“You were right about being a killer. I should have let you join us.”
“I lied about wanting to join you.” I said, “I was always going to kill you all.” I reversed the gun and used it as a club to strike the side of his head and knock him unconscious.
Sarge was awake by the time I had finished securing him to the bed. He lay on his back spread-eagled, secured at wrist and ankle to the bed posts at each corner.
He pulled at his bonds but I had been careful. I knew how to secure a victim and I had no intention of letting this one get away.
I had used the knife to good effect on the bedroom curtains, cutting strips of cloth that I could use in lieu of rope.
“What the hell are you doing?” Sarge asked and I smiled grimly at him as I lifted the combat knife.
“I am going to tell you a story.” I began as I slid the knife beneath the cuff of his sleeve and pulled, tearing through the material.
“A story?”
“Yes.” I said as I slowly cut away his clothing. I had found that doing so while my victim was awake was a remarkable way of cutting away their defences and leaving them open and more importantly increasing their terror.
“You see once there was a man who lived in a large town in England.” I began, “He kept to himself and didn’t really have any friends but he was ok with that. He cared for no one and no one cared for him.”
“In his spare time he amused himself by killing people,” I said as I pulled away the last of Sarges’ clothes and dumped them on the bedroom floor. “He was content. Not happy but content.”
“When the Zombie bloody Apocalypse happened things changed. The man had a very simple choice to make, he could try and survive alone and likely die in the process or he could join with other people and work together to survive.”
I paused and looked down at Sarge; his confusion was turning to fear as he watched my hand that held the knife.
“Now the man had every intention of using the people around him to ensure his own survival and that is all but something happened.”
“What happened?” Sarge asked, his eyes fixed on the knife.
“The people showed him that they were capable, interesting and worthy of his admiration. Slowly, so slowly that he didn’t even realise it, he began to like some of them. They became his friends despite any denial he may make.”
I placed the knife
gently, ever so gently against Sarge’s naked flesh and felt the shiver run through him.
“One of them he would likely admit to feeling more for than just friendship.” I said quietly as I let the knife trail slowly down his chest.
Sarge was straining to lift his head and watch the knife as it approached his groin, eyes wide and I clicked the fingers of my free hand to get his attention, his eyes darted back to mine.
“Now during his time with the people who became his friends, he became separated from them. For a brief moment he considered leaving them and walking away from their friendship before it became a weakness.” I paused and let the knife dig playfully into the skin below his belly button and watched him flinch as the first drop of blood formed on his skin.
“He didn’t walk away of course, for if he did the story would have been much different. No, he followed along after them and along the way he found a child called Emma.” I was sure I imagined the catch in my voice as I said her name.
“Emma was a beautiful child and reasonably entertaining to the man. She kept him company as he travelled in search of his friends and he told her that he would look after her. He promised her that he wouldn’t leave her and it turns out he could only keep part of his promise.”
I swallowed against the infernal lump that seemed to keep forming in my throat before I continued.
“You see, the man stayed with her. He didn’t leave her and he was there when three men fired their guns and he was there when the bullet hit her spine and tore up her insides, he was there when he ended her life to spare her the pain of a slow death. He was there when he failed to protect her.”
Sarge’s eyes were as wide as they could go and his mouth moved but no words came out.
“Ryan.” Lily said from behind me and startled I turned to see her standing in the doorway with Gregg beside her, his eyes as wide as Sarge’s.
“Hello Lily,” I said with a deep sorrow, “How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough.” She said quietly.
“You heard...” I said and my eyes flicked towards Gregg.
Killing the Dead (Books 4-6) Page 15